Page 46 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
An uncomfortable chill runs through me at the thought of anyone, but especially him, hearing my blowup with Mami. “How much of it?” I ask, not that it matters. The entire debacle was a shitshow.
“Most of it,” he answers sheepishly. “I got back early from practice and saw you throw your bike down out front. I thought something might’ve happened since you weren’t answering your phone, or you needed help, so I came running over, and…well…your voice, uh…carries.”
“Oh.” So much for keeping my baggage to myself tonight.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, forget I said anything,” Joaquin offers quickly, waving his hands in the air like he’s sweeping away the fact that he even brought this up in the first place. “We can go back to roasting these shitty slushies.”
He says that last part a little louder than he should. Over his shoulder, the cashier narrows his eyes. Guess the cashier must be the manager—who else would care about some teenagers not liking your product? Joaquin must feel them boring into his back, making him turn with a wave. “Food’s great!” he calls out, as if that’ll make the situation any better.
It does make me snort, though.
“Guess Abuela has a point about me not having an inside voice,” Joaquin mumbles as he turns back around.
“Well, you know I can relate,” I reply. Apparently, my voice is loud enough to carry outside of an entire house.
Joaquin scoots closer to me, the two of us pressed shoulder to shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.” The thought of the argument threatens a fresh wave of tears—seems I’m not as cried out as I thought I was—the memory of Mami, heartbroken and furious, swimming through my blurry vision. “I just lost it.”
My voice cracks on the last syllable, and I use every ounce of strength I have not to let the tears fall this time. Not here,not now, not when this entire outing is supposed to be about Joaquin. “Things have been…a lot lately. With things at home and school and work and…y’know.”
No need to mention the emotional whiplash of trying to help him orchestrate his fairy-tale ending with Tessa while I grapple with my own complicated feelings about him. And, thankfully, Joaquin doesn’t press.
“You deserve a break,” he says, reaching over to take my hand and squeeze it. “Think you can survive two more months of school? Then it’s slushie adventures and day trips to Marco’s for three full months, baby,” he sings with a pleased smile and a wave of his hand. “And then you’ll abandon us small townies for New York.”
The absurdity of his voice keeps the tears at bay, a watery laugh bubbling up inside of me. “Says the one who’s abandoningmeto live your best life in San Juan.”
Joaquin stiffens at the mention of the trip, his cheeks visibly pink even in the darkness. Suddenly, he’s become fascinated by the moon again. “I’m not going to Puerto Rico,” he says.
“What?! Did something happen?” I gasp. “Wait. Is your abuela okay?” I whisper as quietly as I can, as if speaking the words out loud will manifest something terrible into existence.
“Everything’s fine,” Joaquin reassures, his tone casual enough that I release the tension in my shoulders. “It’s…not a good time. Isabella just found out she got this internship she applied to, so she’s going to stay in DC over the summer. Plus, Abuela’s vertigo has gotten worse this year, so we don’t think a three-hour plane ride would be the best idea and leaving her here alone isn’t really an option…Maybe next year.”
He tries to shrug it off like it’s no big deal. Except I know him. That he’s valiant, and selfless, and puts everyone and their mother before him. It doesn’t matter that he’s been excited about this trip all year—so much so that he has that countdown on his phone—or that things haven’t been the same for him since his mom and Isabella left.
“But my mom and I can keep an eye on her!” I offer, already brainstorming how we could watch Doña Carmen over the summer. Sure, Mami and I might not be on speaking terms right now, but nothing mends bridges like banding together to take care of your favorite viejita. “My mom can check on her before work, and I can when I’m back from my shifts. Nurse Oatmeal’s useless, but at least she can keep your abuela company during the day too.”
It’s not a perfect plan, but it’s solid. We may not be Doña Carmen’s doting, beloved grandson, but we’re a second family.
“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says with a shake of his head. “Not after everything you’ve already done for me.”
Over the past fifteen years of knowing each other, we’ve done a thousand favors for one another. He’s sat through dozens of plays and musicals, let me sit on his shoulders at every parade we’ve been to, and stayed up until 2:00a.m. making me a three-layer cake for my quinceañera after the allergen-free baker we’d hired dropped out the night before the party. And I’ve made him flash cards for midterms he was sure he’d fail, sat in the stands of every one of his games, and driven two states over and back just to get him a pair of sneakers he’d desperately wanted for his birthday.
I’d do all of those things again, and a thousand more, if they made him smile.
“But you’re not asking me to do anything,” I tell him. “I’m offering, huge difference.”
“Thank you, but it’s fine, seriously.” He turns his head, raising a brow. “Unless you’re just desperate to get rid of me this summer?”
I throw my hands up in defeat. “You got me.”
He chuckles softly, ramming his shoulder against mine hard enough that I nearly topple off the side of the car. Before I can fall, his arm wraps around mine and narrowly guides me away from the edge.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” I mutter in mock outrage once he lets go, his fingers leaving an explosion of goose bumps where they brushed against my bare skin. “Will Isabella at least come home for the beginning of her summer vacation? Prom wouldn’t be the same without her roasting you for whatever you decide to wear.”
My laugh dies when Joaquin shakes his head. “She starts this week,” he mumbles.
“Well…what about for your game next week? That’s on a Saturday, she can just come for the day.”
